


When the Bough Breaks

by Tilperiel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, F/F, F/M, Heartbreak, M/M, Mental Health Issues, jeanmarco au, this will be a rough ride, warnings for triggering content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1599731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilperiel/pseuds/Tilperiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes life is fair, sometimes it isn't. Contrary to popular belief you don't grow up and put childish things behind you, they gather together and become a part of who you are. Life is something that happens whilst you're waiting for the future. My advice? </p><p>Live it in the moment and don't be afraid to fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Bough Breaks

 

Sometimes the world sucks. Big time. For a long time too. Not just in that melodramatic way of 'oh woe is me I'm skint till the end of the month and I can't go out to that party on Saturday' or 'my mom and dad just don't get me it's soooo unfair' kind of way. In the way that leaves you broken and bleeding and wishing you were someone else kind of way and when you're sat all alone in your house sobbing in that ugly fashion you can't stop and when you know there's no-one coming to comfort you so who cares what you look like anyway?

So why am I venting all of this? Why would you want to hear about such depressing shit when you're probably sat there about to go and look for something more cheerful to read instead, because you don't fancy reading something that might make you feel depressed today? It's cathartic for a start. Getting it all out. 'Releasing my demons' a therapist would probably call it. If I had the bottle to go to one I might have told them instead. But I haven't so you lucky people get to hear it.

And round about now you're likely thinking 'is this going somewhere? Are you actually going to tell us why you're such a misery or just whine a whole lot?' and the biggie 'is this worth my time to get a happy ending?'

The answer? I guess you're going to have to take the plunge to find out.

 

 

* * *

 

_Rewind sixteen years._

_16th June 1998_

"Right, so what's this about?" I dragged my best friend off to the bathroom of the restaurant and as soon as the door was shut rounded on him. We'd all been trying to make conversation around the table, awkward as it was seeing as my parents were about as hard to deal with in social situations as any I'd come across when Thomas had gasped, dropped his fork and stared at me with wide eyes. My mom and dad weren't good with picking up on cues seeing as they left the house for evenings out roughly twice a year and so before he'd had chance to utter a word I'd excused us both.

"Shit! Marco I told them to come over to mine tonight! They're probably waiting in my living room right now!"

My eyes went wide. "Who?!" This was the first I'd heard of anything.

"Annie and Sarah! I told them we'd go out with them tonight and...shit man I forgot!" He had the good grace to look bad at least whilst I just gawked, likely red in the face. I could feel my stomach churning and leaned back against the wall.

"What do you mean? You what? Set me up? You didn't even ask!" Truth was I didn't know what I was feeling. Giddy really as I tried to process that there was a girl who  _actually_ wanted to meet me and that Thomas was trying to set it up for me. I felt a wave of gratitude towards him at the same time as feeling sick with nerves. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing I can do," he shrugged and looked embarrassed, "try to re-arrange I suppose." He cracked a grin and patted my shoulder, "don't worry. Annie's been asking after you for weeks now and pestering me to set something up. She'll agree. I'll tell her tonight was my fault."

"Which it is," I supplied and he laughed.

We went back out to the table my parents and younger brother were sat at and I tried to get through the rest of the meal whilst biting at the inside of my cheeks and looking at the table to wipe the silly smile of my face. If my family noticed anything they didn't say but Tom kept chuckling at me. I'd _so_ be getting him back for this.

And that was my sixteenth birthday.

 

* * *

 

 I wasn't popular at high school but it had gotten better as I'd grown older. At primary school my weight had piled on at about the age of six and crept up and up through the years. That would have been enough of a reason for the kids to bully me, I've come to the conclusion that kids in groups are naturally cruel. They find the weakest member to pick on just because it binds them together I guess. One of them starting it (my own person who will never be forgiven for beginning my misery being a girl by the name of Claire who moved there in the second year) and the rest joining in to be seen as popular and cool. My parents smoked heavily too and in the house as well, so that and my weight problem probably sealed the deal for me early on. I was the fat kid who smelled, had asthma, was covered in freckles and came from the poor family. In a little village where parents were quite snobby on the whole, my parents sending me to the school where they sent their brats wasn't a great idea.

It was the nineteen eighties and one of the best loved kid's movies came out and was an instant hit. The Goonies. Of course I loved it too and will still rank it in my top ten of all time favourites. If you haven't seen it I feel sorry for you and envious too because you get the pleasure of watching it for the first time. But being called 'Truffle Shuffle' for about four years I've gotta tell you wasn't great.

 _"Hey look out everyone! It's Truffle Shuffle!"_  Samuel shouted as I walked into the classroom one day. He laughed but no-one else did, for a change. They hadn't noticed my mom was with me that morning. I couldn't believe he'd walked into that himself, but she was already there to speak to the teacher about my being bullied. Now at least there was proof. I almost felt sorry for the kid as his face fell and he was hauled off by a red faced Mr Hill who just told the rest of us to sit and wait for him while he went off with my mum and Samuel to the headteacher's office. Not that the teachers had ever actually done much to help me before. Looking back I think they disliked me just as much as some of the kids. 

All school years have at least one. That kid who was intelligent enough to get good marks in almost everything but had so many other issues that you didn't even know where to start. I think it just pissed them off. The only time they actually acknowledged anything going on was when it got physical and that was just mortifying. Imagine this and then realise it actually happened.

Kid goes home with bruised legs. It gets spotted and a weary and worn out mum goes to tell the school. 

The next thing I know about it is the headmistress calling me out infront of my class to stand before them, roll my trouser legs up and show the bruises to everyone whilst she lectures them all on why bullying is bad. I felt sick. 

I had a few people come and be nice to me after that. For about a week. The culprits who'd been kicking my shins at lunchtime for the last few weeks gave me death glares for the rest of my school life but thankfully didn't do anything.

 

* * *

 

So it's fair to say I was a bit messed up when I went to high school. I haven't told you the half of it really, not even close, but it's enough so you get the picture. This isn't a story about a bullied child anyway, there are plenty of books out there if you want to read that kind of depressing thing. I wouldn't recommend it. Safe to say that a certain Marco Bodt was more than looking forward to making a few friends at last when he moved up, seeing as the local high school's catchment area covered about four primary schools.

I was eleven by this time, it was 1992 and I'd grown a bit as well. Which meant that finally my weight wasn't quite so bad. It would take a good while longer (way past high school) before I didn't consider myself fat any more but it was a start. 

The bullying would have probably been a lot better if I'd been stronger or if the teachers at my old school had had an ounce of compassion. As it was I was placed in a form group with the guys who let me hang around with them the most and simultaneously made me feel the worst out of everyone. Looking back I think I stuck around them just because I lacked self-confidence and didn't know how to make other friends. They were openly hostile and rude, called me names and mocked me for pretty much everything. But they were the popular kids and I sucked up to them to try to be cool I guess. 

It did change. Slowly. There were others who I managed to start to talk to and more and more as the years went by and there were more classes I got to sit with other people in I found myself not being so scared any more.

 _"Hey Marco! You got that bag just to copy me? Think you're cool now huh?"_ I looked over one break time when Daz laughed. His loud voice carrying and the others sniggering. The people I'd been wanting to be my friends for years who were anything but. I was leaning against the wall, just an ordinary break time. Coat pulled tight and arms wrapped around myself in the cold. It wasn't raining so we had to stay outside. Tough luck. I looked over, feeling my cheeks heating and was about to just let it go when unexpectedly someone in the group I was stood with spoke up for me. I hadn't been participating in the conversation, in a world of my own, so I hadn't even realised he was there to be honest. Not that it mattered.

"What's he supposed to use, dickhead? Come to school with a bin-bag just because  _you_ don't like him?" I stared at the speaker with my mouth open before I closed it and looked away, muttering a  _thanks_ and scuffing my shoe.

Jean Kirschtein. We weren't great mates, I barely spoke to him when we weren't in the group I was with now but he was nice to me. I couldn't recall he'd ever said anything mean other than calling me out a couple of times when I'd banged on about something a bit too much. I tended to do that. 

I remember that incident, it sticks out for some reason more than others that I'd probably need a prompt for. Don't know why, just the way it is with memories. I think it might have been the thing that made me finally start to realise the other guys weren't my friends and that I didn't have to put up with their shit any more. I don't remember standing up to them, not really in any grand gesture of defiance or retaliation, but I stopped sitting by them in form. I stopped trying to get a seat with them at lunch. Most importantly I stopped caring about what they thought of me and I started slowly getting some confidence around my new friends.

There were quite a few of us who ended up hanging about together. Me of course, still being a bit of an outsider, but by fifteen I'd lost most of my puppy fat after a growth spurt and holed myself up in my bedroom with my windows permanently cracked open and a 'no-smoking' sign on my bedroom door. It might have been antagonistic and I was a bit scared of my dad's reaction when I stuck it up but nothing was ever said. It shouldn't have surprised me too much, by that point we barely spoke anyway. Besides the point for now though and thanks to my efforts and copious amounts of Linx I didn't smell so much. I tried out having a cool hair cut, curtains and a slight undercut being really popular then, but I don't know if I pulled it off as well as some of the other guys. didn't seem to do much in the way of getting any of the girls' attention anyway.

I made friends with a blond boy in year eight at first by the name of Armin. He was quiet, not really shy but kept to himself. We sat together in a few classes as we were both in top set for everything and in the same half of the year. We got along well when we were alone but he wouldn't talk to me until the later years of school unless we were on our own. I suppose he didn't want to risk being picked on because of being friends with the looser. I didn't blame him for it in the slightest. I was just grateful for the company when I had it. I still am. He's one of the best friends I've ever had.

That brought me into contact with the people he was friends with slowly and was how I managed to move cliques as I guess you could call it. Not that we had those kind of names for it then. There was Eren and Mikasa, the two who went to Armin's Primary School with him. Eren's parents had adopted Mikasa as a small child and while I didn't know what to say to her at first, awkward and shy round girls at the best of times, she was nice, if reserved. I'll be honest and say she scared the shit out of me the way she gave some people death stares if they picked on Eren but as that didn't include me I figured I was safe as her friend.

Eren was another matter. One of those kids who could be nice and reasonable and you could chat with at times quite normally but had  _such_ a big ego that when it was sparked off...you covered yourself. He thought he was always right and woe betide anyone who questioned him. He had an answer for everything and was so self-righteous in that way that only a teenager who's never seen anything of the world can be. He's still a bit of a jerk at times but he's softened.

Connie was the one who was always in trouble in class for talking or goofing off. Minor things that irritated the teachers, earned him sniggers and friends from the students and was never anything serious enough to actually get him into real trouble. Some of the teachers could be seen to be hiding laughter and grins of their own at some of his antics and he was a genuinely nice guy. We were never super close but he's still in my life, one of those I consider a good friend and I'm glad for it.

Sasha I was slightly closer to. I baked when I was bored. One of the main reasons for my weight was that I was a secret eater. I baked for something to do and then took the finished cakes and biscuits to my room to eat out of comfort. As I said, I had a growth spurt and discovered and I was good at swimming too so that helped some, but to help further I started taking some of the baking to school to give to my new friends. Of course that drew in a constantly hungry Sasha Blouse like a bee to nectar and I didn't mind at all. she was fun, full of life and thanks to her I got to go to more parties than I probably would have. I'm sure at first it was just the food I brought that made the girl make sure I was invited but we made fast friends soon enough. Especially as I let her copy my French homework. As did Connie. Never hurts to be friends with the swat.

My best friend was Thomas Wagner. He was kinda cool but kinda weird at the same time. We didn't even speak until I was fourteen even though we'd been in classes together since we'd started. Somehow as I hung out more and more with the guys we always ended up chatting the most. Laughing over daft stuff and singing loudly and out of tune to whatever we were listening too. I learned how to let myself be me and  _almost_ not care about what people thought. Like walking across the playing fields one Easter holidays to go to the travelling funfair that was over the other side for the Bank holiday weekend. There were about five of us, I can't remember just who apart from Tom and I and we were holding hands and swinging them up and down as hard as we all could, singing  _"I get knocked down! But I get up again! You're never gonna keep me down!'_ really loudly and laughing. Complete idiots but I'm still chuckling as I think about it now. We told each other everything when I was round at his house for late night movie or gaming sessions, usually Sonic the Hedgehog on two player split screen. I didn't really have people round to mine much. I was embarrassed about the smoking and my parents being awkward. Tom never said much about it and I didn't usually volunteer to talk. There were a couple of times I did and when they'd passed we never talked about them again. It was the way it worked for me and I was grateful for a friend who listened without judgement.   

Last but not least there was Jean. I always felt a bit awkward around him in truth. He was kind when we spoke, which wasn't so often but he could be really moody and abrasive too.  The look of someone who's 'so done with this shit' exuding from him. Cool haircut, tie always too short and getting told to sort it out, which he never did. Leather jacket when the rest of us wore denim. I was never sure when I spoke to him what kind of mood he'd be in or if I was going to put my foot in it again. I had a really bad habit of doing that. Jean had it rough and I guess that was why he was like he was sometimes. His little sister passed away when she was eight and he was eleven from leukaemia and his mom had a scare too, which everyone knew about and people tried to avoid mentioning. It wasn't like we were girls and could discuss that kind of thing. All cry together and do things to make him feel better. Well okay, Sasha and Mikasa were girls but teenagers just aren't like that outside of cheesy American shows. Okay, so I was an avid fan of Dawson's Creek not that I told anyone that fact but that kind of thing wasn't real. There was no sitting around with long monologues of introspection and then all of us getting it on after. What did happen was underage drinking when things got emotional, stealing vodka from your parent's drinks cabinets, topping the bottle back up with water so they'd not find out and doing other stupid shit. Yeah I was the swat, I wasn't immune to being a dumb teenager.

The closest I got to Jean whilst we were back at High School was somehow him ending up being the one person who I had sleep over one weekend. I don't even remember how it happened now, but we sat up and watched Die Hard: With a Vengeance, ate too much chocolate and went through my CDs with Jean appraising my taste in music. Which I think he was fairly surprised to find wasn't at all crappy. I remember the word 'cool' being spoken when he flipped past Fat Boy Slim and the giggle that passed my lips. Other than that he was just one of the guys on the group. I'd talk to him sometimes, we'd occasionally work together on one subject or another, but nothing more.

We were all a bit awkward back then. Fifteen years old, Blur, Oasis and Pulp on repeat round each others' houses on the weekends. Singing along to the latest pop songs when they came out. Mass sleep-overs at someone's house, usually Connie's seeing as his mom and step-dad liked to go out for the evening, where we'd watch horror movies, talk about crap and stuff our faces with junk food before we passed out in the early hours or got told off for being noisy at three am. I actually have some better memories from those times. Of laughing, feeling included. Having friends. I wouldn't go back to that age if you paid me, but I can at least smile at some of the things we did.

 

* * *

 

Stood in Tom's house with dark jeans, a white shirt and my hair gelled down to try to tame the cow-lick and I tried not to look as nervous as I felt. It was Friday evening the week after the incident at my birthday meal and somehow he'd managed to convince the girls to give us another chance. I felt sick and was wiping my sweaty hands on my leg when Tom finally came down from his room, his mom shouting to him not to run on the stairs and he came in with a laugh, which made Jess their bouncy Border Collie bark. I was jealous of his family then, that even though I'd been witness to the sibling fights he had with his older sister which were on par with my own they seemed happy. Unlike my own hardly talking family life. His mom came back in with glasses of coke for us and smiled. 

"I hope you're going to behave tonight," she told us both and Tom rolled his eyes. "Mom we're sixteen years old. We're not children any more, you can trust us." I said nothing, just smiled. Always shy and polite round adults who weren't my own parents.

I sipped at my drink and when his mom had gone Tom looked at me with a gleam in his eyes. "Are you excited?" he asked and laughed, straight back to being the child he'd claimed not to be.

"I think so," I wasn't so sure. What was I supposed to do? What was Annie expecting from me? I didn't even know what she looked like yet. All Tom had told me was that a girl he went to Air Cadets with had mentioned she liked me and he'd offered to set her up with me, as long as she did the same for him with one of her friends. 

I didn't have time to contemplate on it any longer as the doorbell rang, setting off another round of barking from Jess and shushing from Tom as he got up. We headed out through the garage instead of the front door as we usually did.

"Bye mom!" Tom called.

"Bye Mrs Wagner!" He sniggered at me and I elbowed him in the arm as we stepped outside and we went quiet. 

In my peripheral vision I could see him going into smooth mode, smiling at the girl I assumed was Sarah and starting chatting right away.  _Nice_ , I thought,  _don't even give me any introductions here will you._ I knew I would be red but just walked over anyway. 

Annie was short, had blonde hair which was in a high pony tail and I had to assume her expression was nerves and not anything else because there was only the smallest of smiles as I approached. I did my best to ignore my own, smiling to cover them. 

"Umm, I'm Marco. Hi." 

"Annie."

And that was that. We followed Tom and Sarah as the walked and headed up through the village. There wasn't anywhere to go in the evenings for anyone our age so we just walked a way and talked between ourselves before reaching the park and sitting on the swings. I leant against one of the metal supports whilst Annie sat and took out a cigarette. Immediately I tensed up but said nothing, still trying to pull of 'cool'.

Tom was better at this kind of thing than I ever was. I'd before then had a grand total of one girlfriend which lasted precisely two weeks who'd been of Connie's older cousins. She'd decided that another guy she met who had a motorbike was cooler than a fifteen year old High School kid and so gave me the whole 'it's not you it's me' speech until I found out otherwise. Coincidentally she was also one of Tom's ex's. 

With Tom's help I managed to get somewhere, finally starting a conversation.

"Are you in college then?" I asked. I was just about to start myself and was nervous about it. I'd decided to go to the next town over instead of the sixth form. 

"I'm at Dauper College, BTec in engineering, it's an apprenticeship, second year." 

"I'm going there too, A-Levels in September." She smiled. It was like her face changed and I smiled in return, thinking maybe I wouldn't mind going out with her after all. Till this point I wasn't sure she was my type.

"What're you taking?"

"Chemistry, Biology and Computer Science." 

"What're you going to do with that?"

I shrugged, "I was hoping to join the police. I want to do forensics, I don't know if I'll get in though." I was concerned I wasn't fit enough, still considering myself over weight and that thought made me unconsciously suck my stomach in and place an arm over it. It was a bad habit, one I've still got even to this day.

"Don't see why you shouldn't," she answered quickly, looking me over and smiling again. I felt better instantly.

We talked for a while more. I learned that she had a younger sister, that her uncle had just had a baby and she was going to be his godmother. I told her about my rebellious younger brother and made her laugh when I told a one of the latest stories of the trouble he'd gotten into. Tom and Sarah left while we were still chatting and I waved goodbye with a smile, he gave me a knowing nod and crossed the field to go home. 

"I have a party to go to," Annie told me when they left, "want to come?"

I froze up. A party with people I didn't know who were older than I was and without telling my parents first? Wasn't going to happen. "I can't," I replied and rubbed at my neck, "I have to get home. Sorry."

"Oh, okay. I'll walk back with you if you want?" Wasn't that supposed to be my line? I didn't question it though and nodded as we started walking out of the park and back up the hill to my house. We passed a guy I knew from school and he gave me a grin as he looked at Annie and then me. I felt my cheeks heating up and smiled back. 

We didn't talk really, just a few sentences. It was awkward and tense and I was just a kid. We both were. It only took five minutes and I was home, standing awkwardly at the top of my drive with my hands in my pockets. Annie was looking at me and I looked back, feeling my cheeks burning once more.

"Umm..." she started and glanced back, "I better..." she seemed reluctant to go. I got the feeling I was supposed to do something here, the hormones kicking in and I did the cheesy thing and asked "Can I kiss you?"

She nodded and I leaned in pressing our lips together clumsily and tasting the bitterness of cigarettes on her breath. It wasn't the nicest kiss ever and was over pretty quickly, but my stomach still did the flippy thing.

"Have you got a pen?" I asked when we parted, voice slightly shaky and watched her dig around in her shoulder bag and hand me one. I grabbed her hand and scrawled my phone number on the back of it. She looked down and then back at me and smiled again. I returned it and we said goodnight as I turned to go into my house and she left for the party.

I went in and straight upstairs, not stopping to talk to my mom or dad in case one of them had been curtain twitching and had seen us kissing in the street. Kicking of my shoes and I stared at the ceiling. I might just have a girlfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on my other fic and I'm sorry for the long wait there, but this needs release. My sincere apologies for writing this already.


End file.
